The Open Mic Night
by JohnnyLurg
Summary: Jerry's stand-up routine gets upstaged when the city's most exclusive comedy club decides to include a variety of acts including poetry. Elaine experiences the pros and cons of online dating and clown sex. Kramer is just kind of there. Believe it or not, George isn't in this, where could he be?
1. Chapter 1

Jerry beamed with ego as he sat behind the front table of the prestigious Snicker Workshop comedy club. He had been selected to perform his latest stand-up routine, "Hyuck Tales," in front of an audience of the most reputable connoisseurs of comedy. Next to him sat his neighbor Cosmo Kramer, who was complaining because he couldn't see the stage due to the tall red hair of the audience member in front of him.

"They all have the same brick wall background," said Jerry. "What exactly do you think you're missing, Kramer? The man in front of me is both tall and wide, and you don't see me throwing a tantrum."

A bald man in a grey suit waddled up onto the stage. "Welcome to Snicker Workshop's fifth annual open mic night," he said.

"Open mic night?!" asked Jerry. "I thought I had been selected to perform?"

"Oh, you have been selected," laughed the bald man. "Selected to read first! Please give a warm welcome to…what's your name, sir?"

"Jerry Seinfeld," he muttered and clumsily leaped onto stage. Some prestigious comedy club, though Jerry, I can't even see the faces of the audience members in this pitch black! Where's Kramer?

Jerry coughed twice, signaling the beginning of his act. "So, I was watching _Goof Troop _the other day, followed by some classic Mickey Mouse shorts like 'Steamboat Willie' and 'The Sorcerer's Apprentice,' and I was thinking, what's the deal with Goofy and Pluto anyway? How can Mickey Mouse keep a clean conscience and image when he has enslaved a creature of the same species as one of his closest friends? And then his arch-nemesis Pete only has one leg? What's up with that? Somebody alert the political correctness movement that their beloved Mickey Mouse is an ableist! And don't get me started on the ducks. I was shopping in my local supermarket right after a six-hour _DuckTales _marathon on the Disney Channel, and I came across a carton of Donald Duck Orange Juice! What do ducks know about the quality of oranges, or any other food for that matter? They can't even chew! And what about Scrooge McDuck? After he eats his oranges, does he have to wait an hour before diving into his swimming pool of gold coins? Liquid food, solid pool! The things they're getting away with in cartoons nowadays. I mean, did you ever notice how everybody and their uncle has a nephew or three in _DuckTales_? What, are they not able to conceive so they have to steal their brother or sister's offspring? 'Gee, Donald, I just got my test results back and it turns out we won't be having any ducklings anytime soon.'" Jerry followed up that attempt at capturing the voice of Daisy Duck with a spot-off Donald Duck impression that had the unseen audience audibly chuckling. "'Don't worry, Donald, it's good that you weren't an only child, or otherwise I'd be turning myself in to the down jacket company right about now!' You know, in case you're wondering why a grown man such as myself watches all these duck and mouse 'toons, it's because I got my own litter of nephews hanging around my apartment all day. To tell you the truth, I don't really care about Scrooge and the triplets' adventures to Atlantis or Fort Knox or anything, but man, would I savor a night in bed with that Magica DeSpell! She's second on my list after Lois Lane! And as a matter of fact, I did get a night with Magica last night, and it went pretty well until she realized what the pillows were made of! Goodnight, Snicker Workshop, it's been fun!" With a slight bow, Jerry stepped off the stage into the darkness.

"Great job, Jerry, but I was just talking to Newman and I think you've got some competition tonight," said Kramer as Jerry took his seat.

"Newman?" laughed Jerry. "Newman couldn't tell a joke if his appetite depended on it."

"Hello, Jerry," said the portly man sitting in front of him in a falsely jovial tone.

"Hello, _Newman_," snapped Jerry.

"And for our next act, let's give some warm snaps for New York City's new Poet Laureate, Norman E. Newman!"

"I don't care if he is the Poet Laureate, this is a comedy club," muttered Jerry as Newman plopped his body onto the stage.

"This first one is called 'For All the Times,'" said Newman as 50,000 fingers snapped in rhythm.

"For all the times I'd been upstaged," grumbled Jerry. "Let's get out of here, Kramer."

"Jerry, I'm enjoying this! And after Newman's poetry reading, there's going to be a blind violinist, and then an albino belly dancer, and then a blue-faced performance artist, and then a choir of yodelers, and then a clown…"

"This isn't a comedy club, it's a three-ring circus!" snapped Jerry and exited the club without Kramer.


	2. Chapter 2

Meanwhile, Elaine had just discovered the thrills of online dating. She had spent the past eight hours seated at her Windows 95, chatting with a man quite gifted in the realm of poetry.

"So tell me, how did your comedy routine go?" asked Elaine, finally averting her gaze from the screen as Jerry walked into her apartment in the same way that Kramer often walked into his.

"Just terrible," said Jerry. "Actually, I think I got some laughs, but Newman had the nerve to follow me up with some of his sentimental bullcrap."

"You know, women adore sensitive guys," said Elaine.

"Comedy fans don't," said Jerry.

"Just read this new poem my Internet boyfriend wrote for me." She stood up for the first time in eight hours so that Jerry could sit in her chair.

"I don't think this is that good," said Jerry, scrolling down the chat. "Reminds me of the crap Newman was babbling tonight. I hope you're not dating Newman behind my back. Oh, what's this, he's going to meet you here in thirty minutes?"

"Get your eyes off that, it's personal!" said Elaine.

"Elaine, nothing's been personal between us or George or Kramer since we all officially became a gang of four. Is Newman trying to take you away from the gang?" asked Jerry.

"He isn't Newman! He sent me a picture of himself. He's thin but muscular with long red hair you could get lost in."

"I'm going to work on a new act that will put Newman in his place. It's going to be about sensitive poetry-reading guys and why they never win! I'll see him at next week's open mic night, and the tides are going to turn!" snapped Jerry, and curtly left her apartment.

About thirty minutes later, someone politely knocked on Elaine's door. She briefly primped in the mirror before letting the stranger in.

Into Elaine's apartment walked a circus clown with frizzy orange hair, a round red nose, and white makeup dressed in nothing but gigantic crimson shoes.

"Looks like I might have to double up on sponges tonight," shuddered Elaine.

Another thirty minutes later, the deed was done and Elaine couldn't believe how much she was enjoying herself.

"Was it as good for you as it was for me?" asked Elaine, grabbing the clown's fake nose and putting it on her own for laughs.

"Uh…yeah," said the clown nervously. "Do you mind if I use your phone for a second?"

"After that wild ride, I wouldn't mind anything! Now I know why you guys all drive those tiny cars! It's because you don't have anything to compensate for!" Elaine lit a cigarette and began puffing away.

The clown reached for the phone on Elaine's headboard. "Uh, hi, Newman? It's Boppo here. I'd just like to thank you for those poems you wrote for me. You really helped a clown out, you know? Yeah, it was all right, I've had better but it's hard to get any in my profession. All right, good luck at next week's open mic. I'll see you again then. Next time let's try to both go up before that _DuckTales _loon. Bye now."


End file.
